Not Your Average Fist Fight
by LoveToDream
Summary: Hogwarts cannot keep you safe forever. As the war continues to build, Lily Evans is starting to realize that Hogwarts may not be as safe as everyone expects.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own HP clearly.

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Chapter 1- I Owe You Nothing

I frowned as I examined the charred remains of what was once a table. Maybe I should call it a night, I was only trying to levitate the table and transfigure it into brick wall, not make it go up in smoke. Sighing I preform a simple charm to tidy up the vacant classroom. Since I've returned to Hogwarts I have come to this vacant classroom—now being used only for storage—almost every other night to practice defensive magic. A girl has to learn how to protect herself. Hogwarts cannot keep you safe forever.

Sighing, I continued to tidy up and pack away my notebooks. Practicing magic by oneself is not easy. Who am I kidding, it cannot be done. Not the right kind of magic anyways, like the defensive type. I need to get a partner_._ I stopped breathing. What was that noise? I stood still and strained my ears to hear. _There! There it was again!_ The faintest sound of foot steeps. As Head Girl, out of bed past curfew, I did the only rational and mature thing I could think of. I threw myself over a nearby (not charred), desk and hid.

What if it's Filch! I thought to myself, oh man I can't get in trouble, I just can't! The door of the classroom opened. I regret now watching all those horror films over the summer; like a movie wheel the movies played in my head, images of brutally mangled bodies and masked men with knives. Oh Merlin I'm finished. The footsteps were nearing the desk. I looked up at the window in hopes to see a reflection, but all I saw was the night sky, and the moon hanging low over the trees. Gulping, I summoned my Gryffindor courage and peered around the desk and saw…nothing. The room was empty and the door was closed. I could have sworn that I heard footsteps! Breathing a sigh of relief I turned back around and screamed!

"Shut it!" cried a husky voice as a strong hand covered my mouth to stifle my cry. I pushed it away and after taking a deep breath shouted—you know in whisper form—at the jerk sitting almost noise to noise in front of me.

"Potter! What the bloody hell do you think you are doing! Have you lost your mind! Where did you come from! What are you doing out of bed, what have you been up to, it better not be another prank and how in the world did you find me—" I was silenced again as he put is hand over my mouth.

"Be _quite!_ Do you really want Filch to find us? I am here to save your sorry ass, though I am starting to seriously regret it, now get up and be quite unless you want to get detention." I glared at him as he smirked. I nodded to indicate I'll be quite, but for good measure I tossed him the figure. "Always the charmer Evans, now come on." He removed his hand from my mouth, grabbed my right arm and dragged me out of the room.

It took all my will power and all the strength I had _not_ to shake off his arm and kick him. I could only picture the smirk he had plastered on his face. Suddenly the sound of shuffling feet and a distinct wheezing could be heard around the corner. Filch!

Our eyes wide, we looked at each other as the wheezing grew louder and without saying a word we dashed down the corridor and came up to a dead end. _Crap_. I turned to my side hoping Potter had a good plan only to find him gone. What the hell the boy was like a ghost. "Evans over here." I turned fully around to find him halfway down the hall holding open a wooden door. There was no door there before! Was there?Shaking my head, for this was no time to ask questions, I ran into the closet closely followed by Potter.

"What kind of broom closet is this?" I looked around, but that was hardly possible, for there was no room to even move my head a fraction. Actually there was no room at all! A mop and bucket would not feel comfortable in here, in fact, I was not comfortable in here, flattened up against the wall with James _bloody_ Potter literally pressing up against me. There are ridges on this boy's body I should _not _be feeling right now.

"Don't talk." We were silent. The wheezing was getting louder now and it occurred to me that we had made it in the broom cupboard just in the nick of time. The wheezing was just on the other side of the door now and I closed my eyes. This was it. Filch was going to open the door to find the Head Girl and Boy sandwiched in this little space, definitely something I do not want to explain. How do I explain that I have been out of bed, practicing magic in an unused classroom past curfew and allowed Potter to hide me. Yeah, they are going to want to take my badge back. If the charred desk and being caught in a cupboard with the schools infamous prankster and playboy isn't enough grounds for having my badge taken away, I don't know what is. I became aware of two things at this point. One the door never opened though I could hear Filch muttering on the other side, seriously how daft do you have to be not to open the closet door? And, as he continued up the corridor to the dead end, the other thing I became aware of was a hand.

I looked up. Even in the complete dark I could sense Potter's smirk as he took the liberty of putting his hand where it did _not_ belong. I had not realized in the beginning that his hand had been on my waist, but it became _quite_ evident as it began to make its slow descent to cup my ass. I jumped, or rather squirmed but that simply did nothing but draw me closer to him. I swear this closet was getting smaller! I was sandwiched so close to Potter I could barely breath though he sure as hell was not having and problem as his warm breath tickled my neck.

"Would you _stop _squirming." Potter hissed in my ear, which I am sad to say sent shivers down my spine and I promptly froze on the spot. Really Potter? Shivers? I was going to snap back at him that the only reason I was squirming was to get his hand off my ass, but as though he read my mind he silenced me with a figure to my lips.

It felt like an eternity though it could not have been more than two minutes when Potter finally whispered Filch was gone. The only other sound was the resounding slap, as I slapped him as hard as I could across the face and pushed my way out of the closet.

"Man Evans that was uncalled for, I just saved your neck you know, you should be thanking me, maybe on your knees." I saw red as Potter looked me up and down slowly with that suggestive smirk.

"Excuse me! I owe you nothing! I could have hidden from Filch all by myself I don't need your _hero _complex getting in the way. And another thing," I said pointing my wand at the smirking jerk leaning against the wall, "Touch my ass again and you will find your favorite organ missing in the middle of the night!" I pivoted on my heals and stomped down the hallway towards the dormitories.

"Does that mean I should expect a late night visit Evans!" I heard him chuckle as I continued down the hall. The nerve. I should have realized that I would not be able to shake him that easily as he caught up to me and fell into step. We were after all both the Heads and with this new title came with it the privilege of having our own dormitories. I had been looking forward to my own room all summer since I received my letter, but it has come with a price. I never in my wildest dreams, did I ever, _ever_, envision Potter being Head Boy. It is official; Dumbledore has lost his marbles.

"So what were you doing out past curfew anyways Evans? I almost fainted at the sight of you, burning school property and everything! Must admit I was actually proud of you for a moment, you know, until you opened your mouth." I turned red as I bit my lip from turning to him and cursing him. Though that does remind me I never got around to repairing that charred desk, I have a feeling I'll be assigned to hunt down the perp tomorrow. "None of your business Potter, the better question is," I stopped and turned to face him "what were _you _doing out of bed?"

"Now, now Evans that is not how it works. You have to give a little to get a little." He winked and continued down the corridor. I exercised enough control to stop myself from stomping my foot like a child. We both knew that I could not report him for I would have to explain why I was out of bed. I was confident Potter had no desire to report me, though that did not stop the feeling that he would not use this to his advantage, still I had to know for sure.

I raced up the corridor and caught up to him. "Will you report me?" I felt stupid asking this question, even more stupid when he raised an eyebrow and looked at me like I was a simpleton. "Really Evans, is the only thing you fear is getting detention? Honestly, there are more important things to worry about you have to grow up sometime. No I won't report you." My jaw dropped. Really the nerve! "I have to grow up? Well if that isn't the kettle calling the pot black, seriously Potter I have to grow up? Was it not just the other day you pranked Snape? If that was not being immature I don't know what is."

"He had it coming." Another shiver ran down my spine, but this time it was different. The first time, I dare say felt…well it felt better than this. His voice made me stop; he was angry. "What do you mean he had it coming? Potter you sent him to the Hospital Wing! You were cruel and you humiliated him once again! You need a taste of your own medicine sometimes Potter, really what could he have possibly done to deserve it? You need to grow the bloody hell up." I began to walk away from him, but before I took a step Potter grabbed me by the arm and pushed me up against the wall his face an inch from mine.

"You have no right Evans ok, you don't know shit, you live your life up in some cloud acting all high and mighty. Let me tell you something _babe_," he growled, even though I was petrified I still felt those damn shivers again, "these are dark and dangerous times, you really better start figuring some things out now Evans, because you are not all so invisible as you may think, you keep being so damn oblivious you are going to get yourself killed. I hear things, you better start coming back down to reality." He was angry, but I was not sure why he was mad at me. Potter and I are simply school chums, if you could even call us that, he is acting as though I will be killed tomorrow, like I am going out there to find trouble. His eyes flashed as I lifted my chin stubbornly.

"I am aware of what is happening Potter I am not _blind!_ Do you not think I am not aware of who I am, or rather _what _I am?" His lip curled as I make reference to the fact that I was a muggle born, by definition _dirty blood_. "I am doing all that I can to protect myself and those I love, why, do you think I am making sure to correspond with the Ministry daily to secure a position after Hogwarts? I am not stupid Potter I know my kind are not welcome, but I am sure as hell not acting _oblivious_, I am going to help stop it."

Potter blinked. Than he blinked again and I swear the fires in hell could not compare to the flames behind those glasses that suddenly erupted. "What do you mean you are going to _help_ stop it? What the _fuck_ Evans you can't get in the middle of this! You need to stay out of the line of fire don't you get it!" He ranted, "Oh please Potter, I hear you and Black talking about "joining the fight" when you get out of here, what makes you so special huh? You are not the only ones wanting to help! And by the way you too joke about it, it should be you who stays out of it, this is not a game!"

"Exactly!" I flinched as he shouted in my face. "This is not a game Evans, you will get hurt, or…" He seemed to struggle with the last part. These dark times were affecting everyone. Potter never cared about me. Potter and I, well to put it politely, we hate each other. Our relationship for a lack of a better of term was formed on mutual loathing. Since our first year Potter and I have never exactly seen eye to eye. Coming from completely different backgrounds, not to mention worlds, our opposite personalities, social circles, interests and the fact that he always loathed my now ex-best friend, is just a few examples on a rather long and tiring list of why Potter and I dislike each other. Concern is the last emotion I would have expected Potter to send my way. Why just the other day he charmed my door so that it would not open. I was trapped inside my bedroom all day, meaning I not only missed all my classes, but that day they served Irish stew for dinner, which Potter is well aware is my favorite meal. I had tried every spell I knew, but Potter has not been named top of his class (along side me that is) without being naturally good at what he does. And what he does is annoy the shit out of me.

He anticipated my movies perfectly. The first spell I used, a simple Alohamora spell, not only failed, but also somehow caused my window to disappear. Like I said, he is good, he even made it so that on my fifth attempt to open my door posters suddenly appeared all over my walls images of a half naked Potter, and written all over in my handwriting were sayings such as "James is soooooo sexy", "Mrs. James Potter", "I am a nerd and James is my superior". The whole prank I'm sad to say was well planned and by eleven that night my door finally opened and the posters disappeared. I only survived the whole day in my room due to the endless supply of Berti Bots every Flavor Bean, which I am not a big fan of, but hey beggars can't be choosers. I had planned to murder Potter for his little pranks ,but the bloody bastard had vanished. Potter's only purpose in life I feel is simply to annoy me.

"Why do _you_ even care?" I asked raising my chin even higher. I hated the fact that I felt short next to him. I did not have time to gasp as he grabbed me, this was happening a lot tonight, and kissed me. It was not exactly kind either though that did not stop the fireworks that sprang up behind my eyelids. Oh shit. Potter pushed me further up the wall. I had no control over my body, my head was screaming to push him away, but my body was saying something completely different, as my hands tangled themselves into his messy hair, scraping his scalp. He growled into my mouth and I swear I lost it. What the hell! This should not be happening. I was just screaming at the bloody wanker just five seconds ago, we do nothing but fight and tease. His tongue explored my mouth taking full liberty of my confused state. He was rough, and I liked it. We broke away. My lips were swollen from the attack. Breathing hard I gazed into his eyes where I saw a battle of wills taking place. The anger was still there, but lust was taking over. He seemed disillusioned. Breathing hard he pushed himself off the wall. We stared at each other for a while, simply stood and stared. "I care." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, turned and continued down the hall. As for me I slid down the wall onto the floor, still in a trance. Oh boy.

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Dreamer


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2- Restless

I did not sleep that night. I tossed and turned trying to rid my mind of images of Potter, his face looming above mine, trying desperately to push down the feelings I experienced when he kissed me. Yet the most challenging part was trying to be level headed about this whole thing and really examine what it meant when Potter kissed me. It was all a ruse. Indeed this was just another one of Potter's well thought out pranks intended to drive me insane. From the end of fifth year and all through sixth year, Potter had found a new way to annoy me. He continued to ask me out all though sixth year just to get a rise out of me. I know this to be a fact for I had once overheard Potter telling Sirius that him asking me out was a fun pass time. Similar in the sense to hexing Snape, and that all he was doing was enjoying getting under my skin. Isn't he such a charmer? And yet he is the most sought after guy at Hogwarts, him and Sirius that is. His constant asking me out in the most humiliating situations had a rather profound affect on the student body. I had no idea how large a population Potter's fan club was until they all turned against me, and let me tell you it was not pretty. I am not sure how I survived sixth year to be honest. I spent most of the meals trapped in a bathroom stall to avoid the food that would be whipped at me. I discovered new secret passageways within the castle and stuck to deserted corridors so that I could go one hour without my bag splitting open and my ink containers breaking all over my notes. I was almost given detention by my Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for showing up late and with a ruined ten-page report due that day. Had it not been for the frog guts that covered my person I think Professor Merlo would have kept me after class. As it were, frog guts stink and I avoided detention, for as Professor Merlo said "I think you have been punished enough, and you have definitely punished the class. 10 points from Gryffindor nevertheless." You see the frog guts had a permanent sticking charm on it requiring me to seek professional help from the school's physician. It was not pretty. I had to bath in some pretty smelling liquids, which made me almost miss the smell of frog guts. I was orange when the process was complete. Not only were the potions extremely smelly, they dyed one's skin orange. Yep, I was not only a "carrot top" I was now the full packaged. _Who ordered the walking carrot?_ That saying followed me for weeks on end. So you can see my apprehension when it comes to Potter. That boy has a hidden agenda.

The best thing I could do in this situation was to avoid it. I learned that the only way to keep Potter at bay was to ignore his tactics. He was a spoiled boy and if I refuse to play into his games he would back off. _Yeah like that is going to happen._ I shook the tiny nagging voice from my head, but I could not deny the underlying truth. Potter never gives up, especially when he gets it in his mind that something he wants cannot be his. _Stubborn prick. _

I stood up and crossed the small room to my dresser. Looking into the mirror a pair of tired green eyes looked back at me. My usually brilliant green eyes looked dull and almost grey, as though I went from being a seventeen-year-old witch, to an eighty-year-old grandmother. Needless to say my reflection was not kind. Dark circles lined my eyes showing the effects of a many late nights and lack of sleep. Adding to the walking dead figure that stood in front of me, my already pale face seemed white as a sheet making not only the bruised semi-circles look even darker, but making the individual freckles that dusted my nose and cheeks stand out more than usual. Sighing I picked up my hairbrush and brushed out the tangles in my long red hair. I love my hair. It is very rare for red heads to say this, but I believe my hair is my best feature. My long mane is smooth and the colour is rich. I don't do much with my hair, never really taking the time to learn and memorize the latest hairstyles and tricks that other young witches my age make a point to learn and practice all the time. My dorm mates, when I shared the dorms in Gryffindor tower before becoming a Head, use to get up an hour early and mimic the hairstyles featured in that weeks issue of Witch Weekly. Now don't get me wrong, this is not to say I never tried. I am a wiz at charms and preforming the simple elegant wand tricks they teach in these magazines produce some very pleasant results. I was even able to add to the charm they provided so that the curls lasted longer, or the straightening charm provided just that extra shine. It was fun, but to do that every day was pointless. Usually I just put my hair up in a messy bun. I kind of like the effect of my hair sticking up at odd angels when I run my hands through it in frustration while studying, it reminded me of my father's untamable hair.

My eyes stung for a moment at the thought of my father, but I quickly held the tears back and gave my self a shake. Grabbing my Transfiguration homework I left my room and entered the shared Heads common room. Parking myself at the desk by the fireplace, where the embers still admitted a little warmth, I used up the last of my reserved energy and worked on the long and pointless assignment.

I must have dozed off at some point in the night for when I work up I was face-planting my essay and a nice size pool of droll had formed on my concluding paragraph making it eligible. Sighing, I wiped the remainder of the droll from the corner of my mouth feeling sore and ill at ease. Looking down at the ruined portion of my essay I quickly preformed an erasing charm scrubbing away the mess, and the concluding paragraph. Oh well, it probably sucked anyway. Stretching my aching muscles I packed up my belongings and looked at my watch. It was still early enough that I would be one of the first down for breakfast. The thought of pumpkin juice and toast made my stomach gurgle.

Packing up my things I made my way down to the Great Hall. As I suspected it was almost deserted. Besides myself, the only other people who occupied the space were a couple of Ravenclaws and a few Hufflepuffs and Professor Merlo. I was surprised to see Merlo up so early. Racking my brain I realized he must always grace the Great Hall at this hour for as far as I can recall I never have seen him eating with the majority of the students. This is not uncommon. Most professors take meals in their own studies, occasionally venturing to dine in the Great Hall on special occasions. It also makes sense that Merlo would avoid the Hogwarts population as much as possible. Or should I say, the female population. The risks of being a young professor of the opposite sex.

Making my way to the Gryffindor table I parked myself at the end closest to the front. Most students avoid sitting close to the professor's table in fear of being overheard making inappropriate comments, or in the Marauders case, fearing that their latest prank would be overheard.

I was half way through my toast when I sensed eyes on me. Looking around at the other tables confirmed that none of the students seated or those slowly filtering in, were taking any notice of my presence. Turning around I locked eyes with Merlo. He quickly turned away, but in that brief moment I felt chills run up my spine, and not the good kind. A cold sweat broke out as I tried to understand the emotional sirens going off inside my head that were telling me to run. _Run_!

"Did I offend you? Where you going?" I almost screamed as I jumped the rest of the way in the air. Apparently my body was reacting to the siren in my head and was already halfway out of my seat. Spinning back around I looked down at my best friend sitting across from me munching on a piece of toast drenched in marmalade. Imogene Skyler.

"Imogene! You scared me!"

"Really? Because I have been sitting here that last five minutes talking to you.

"Oh sorry I was in my own world," I apologies as I sat back down in my seat looking at the girl seated across from me, wondering how I would have missed her. Imogene is not one to go unnoticed. If her brilliant blond hair didn't make her stand out, her height and ballerina figure sure as hell made many heads turn. But don't be fooled. She may look breakable, but she was not put on the Gryffindor Quidditch team for no reason. Her blue eyes were also very striking, but it is not so much Imogene's appears that makes her who she is, her seers ability makes one both envious and fearful of her. I can tell you from experience it is not a good feeling being around someone who can see into the future. Though Imogene swears to the fact that she cannot see into the future, "_I am not my great-great-great-great-grandmother Lily"_ as she constantly reminds me, but regardless if she thinks her lineage has deluded her ability compared to her ancestor, and in a way it has, Imogene nevertheless has yet to be wrong about a "feel" she gets about something, or someone.

"I'm sure you were, careful of tempting fate okay," Imogene said in a vague absent-minded tone. I know that tone she is reading into one of her _feelings_.

"What? I clamped down on my tongue as the accusation in my question escaped from my lips. I know Imogene cannot help her sense, she may not get full visions, but her instincts are as close to premonitions as anything could ever be. Still, I don't like when people try to tell me what to do. Especially when I have not done anything yet.

"What? Oh sorry went into _my_ own world for a second too." Imogene's frosty tone made the air between us form icicles. I may be prone to fiery tempers—comes with the hair—but Imogene is not one to be ignored or accused of things she cannot help.

"Sorry, I didn't sleep at all last night. Really I'm sorry for snapping at you. What did you mean though, about tempting fate?"

Imogene sighed. "I don't know Lily I don't keep a dream diary." Oh so it was going to be this kind of day was it. Great, first I'm assaulted by Potter and forced to spend the night slumped over my homework resulting in a stiff neck and no sleep, and now I am getting bitchy attitude from my best friend. I can feel my temper rising at an alarming rate. This may just be the lack of sleep or maybe I'm exhibiting some girl-crazed moments, but right now I just can't take this, my life is too messed up for some spoiled bitchy blond's attitude to be added into the mix.

I could be imaging it but I am pretty sure the silverware was slightly rattling. Reminds me of the first time Imogene and I meet. The moment we became best friends. With that memory flooding my mind, my temper lowered and the silver stopped shaking.

"Thanks for not staking me, I was worried for a second there that that fork was going to meet my eyeball." We both burst out laughing at our ridiculousness. Yep girl-crazing.

"Sorry about that."

"No worries, good know that the next time I surprise you, before you have a chance to finished your pumpkin juice, I might expect to be knifed."

"Nah, I probably won't go for the kill, but may just leave a few cuts on that pretty face of yours." I jokingly threatened, point my butter knife at her. She laughed, her voice chiming around the Great Hall, stirring some students from their morning stupor. Oh, did I mention she is also got an ancestor who was a Veela? I would have thought the blond hair gave her away.

"If you are going to give her a few cuts maybe you can do me a big favor and cut out her tongue for me." I glanced over at the figure sliding into the seat next to me and snatching up piece of toast.

"The only who needs to be silenced is you Black." Imogene shot back.

"And deprive the young female population of Hogwarts of my sexy and deeply charming voice. That is cruel and unthinkable punishment Skyler." Black winked.

"You know having to constantly draw attention to your physical image Black, calling yourself sexy, even your own voice, suggests that you are compensating for something. Is there a tiny problem you wish to discuss?" I choked on my pumpkin juice almost making the liquid come out of my noise. Spluttering into my goblet I almost missed Blacks retort.

"Like I keep reminding you Skyler, no need to beat around the bush, if you want to see it just ask, and trust me there is nothing _tiny_ about any problem I may have.

"Black some people are trying to eat. Please reframe from such comments or I will have to deduct points for lured behavior." I warned. I didn't have to see Black's eye roll or Imogene's raised brow to know how ridiculous I sounded. But if it got him to shut up about his junk, I'm alright with it.

"Oh Evans ever the little girl. Maybe it is you who needs a lesson in proportions, may get that stick out of your ass."

"Sirius." My retort died at the tip of my tongue as Potter slid into the vacant seat beside Imogene giving his best friend and partner in crime a look that could freeze a river. I had never seen Potter and Black show any other kind of emotion to one another other than mischief. This was…well this was something I could not label. The two seemed to communicate silently with each other, a conversation Imogene and I were not privy too.

What was the universe trying to do to me? Never in my wildest dreams would I have ever envisioned the Marauders on this end of the table. I snuck a quick glance down the table to where the Marauders, and their fan club, usually ate. As suspected the other half of the Marauders were occupying their usually space. One stuffing his face of all the food in close proximately, while the other one, attention focused on reading the Daily Profit, ignored the simpering girls beside him.

"Evans!" I jumped and turned back to Potter who was looking at me with a questioning smirk.

"Yes?"

"I was just saying, that I have revised the schedule for tonight and I need you to sign off on it." His voice showed his annoyance of having to repeat himself as I reached across the table to the scroll he was holding.

"Yes, of course. What changes have you made?"

"Snape has insisted that he cannot do Thursday nights anymore. He has presented me with a professor's statement that he is in need of Mr. Snape's help Thursday nights." Potter waved the permission slip in the air before returning it to his rucksack. I raised a voice at his tone of voice.

"You have an issue of Professor…" I looked down at the neat notes Potter inserted into the bureaucratic document locating the name of the Professor in need of Snapes help. My eyes widened a fraction at the name. "Professor Merlo's need of Snape?"

I looked up when Potter did not answer me right away. He was staring very intently at me, almost analyzing my every move. I stared right back without filching. He seemed to come to some conclusion as he draged his eyes away from mine to wink at a pretty blond down the table. I bent my head down to sign my name with as much concentration that was not necessarily needed, trying to hide my traitorous face. I handed back the scroll. Potter was only half paying attention, stuffing the scroll in his rucksack, as he and Black vacated their seats to sit with the rest of the Marauders down the table.

"Lily, fate, she is a mean bitch, be weary."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3- Headache

"If I have to listen to one more lecture on the importance of this years NEWTS, I swear I will join the Headless Hunt." Imogene growled as we left our last class of the day. It had been a long day and though it was only the third week of classes, by the way the professors were acting, you would have thought the NEWTS tests were tomorrow.

"If you are going to join the Headless Hunt, might I suggest you invest in some riding pants? You would not want a life time of chafing." I teased.

"Very funny Lily, you are so witty. I'm serious though, is it not enough that we have to take the damn tests, they need to constantly remind us every second of everyday! I mean just look at the amount of homework we have! And they except us to study on top of that!"

"Well these are suppose to be the most important tests we take. I mean besides our OWLS which you know determined what kind of career we may have, but the marks we receive on our NEWTS may actually determine if we get hired or not."

"Lily it is SEPTEMBER! The exams are months away!"

"Actually October is only next week," I retorted,

"Lil—"

"Actually you reminded me of something." I said cutting Imogene mid-sentence and taking off down the hall. To be fair, I was still a little sore with her from this morning and tack on my growing need for sleep and the never ending stress of my future, it was best for the both of us if I remove myself from a fight. I heard some faint screeching from behind me, but I ignored her as I took off down the hall and towards the Great Hall. Imogene would go to the common room first to drop off her rucksack before heading to dinner. I would usually join her, but tonight I needed to make sure I did not miss a certain someone.

My stomach growled loudly as I entered the Great Hall. The delicious smell of shepherd's pie hit me like a brick wall. I closed my eyes tightly and breathed deeply as I felt my world spin just bit. Allowing the queasy feeling to pass, I opened my eyes and scanned the hall. Most of the seats were empty, but were filling up fast as students, hungered from a long day of study, began to drift into the hall drawn by the warm smell of food. I walked towards my usual spot and filled my plate with everything in arms reach. Keeping my eyes firmly fixed on the entrance to the hall, I shoveled the food in my mouth with more vigor than I would normally have done with shepherd's pie. I was about to help myself to seconds when I sensed rather than saw my target of interest enter the hall. Dragging my eyes to entrance I had to stop myself from rolling my eyes at the ridiculous display.

Standing in the hall entrance, as though posing for the cover of Wizard's Chic, the four heart throbs of Hogwarts began to walk in a line towards their seats, disinterested in everything around them: the simpering girls who waved after them, and the shout-outs from other boys looking to be acknowledged by the popular wizards. Pathetic really. As to whom I was referring to, the infamous boys or the Hogwarts population, I was not sure.

I watched the boys take their seats and begin to shovel anything and everything into their mouths, no difference really to how I must have looked just prior to their entrance. Sighing, I looked back at my empty plate. I was still hungry, but my sense of responsibility outweighed my desire to feast on the apple pie in front of me. I looked back at the boys and was shocked to find myself locking eyes with Potter. He glanced down at my plate and glared as though knowing my reluctance to satisfy my hunger. I felt my cheeks heat up as I looked away. It was like the boy knew my every move. Grabbing my messenger bag I made my way towards the group of boys.

Walking, I noticed Imogene enter the hall and make her way towards the Hufflepuff table. She waved towards a small blond girl seated near the front. Seating herself next to the young girl and hugging her tightly, Imogene ladled soup into a bowl and began to sip it slowly as the young girl babbled on next to her. Claire Blanc, a second year and Imogene's cousin, was reenacting with some enthusiasm, a story so much so that she ended up knocking over a goblet of pumpkin juice during her tails. Providing her cousin with her undivided attention, I smiled as Imogene laughed, looked horrified and cried out statements of "NO!" all at the right points during Claire's story. Imogene loved her cousin as though Claire were her own sister. I felt a pain of remorse for being so hard on Imogene. Imogene carried a special gift, but like all magic, it came with a price. No one knew this, but one night Imogene had woken up screaming and thrashing around in her bed. I cradled her telling her everything was all right that it was just a bad dream, but I knew better. Imogene witnessed Claire's future, and from what I was able to gather that night, something terrible was in store for Claire. When Imogene went home for the summer, she spent it with Claire and for the first time she swore to herself that she would be there for Claire and protect her against the future. I continued my trek down the table and came to a stop in front of the one and only James Potter.

"Well good evening Evans, I'm digging the older woman look, those little bags under your eyes tacks on about twenty years." I repressed the urge to vomit at Black's comment.

"Thanks Black, glad to know that your supposed summer indiscretions are proving correct." I said sweetly.

"Oh you have no idea Evans. Though you are not my type I'm willing to provide validation for another foolhardy rumor concerning my character." Black said, suggestively winking lazily ranking his eyes up and down my figure. I am starting to feel fatigued by the constant improper comments.

"Thanks Black, I'll keep that in mind. Potter I need to meet with you in the Heads Common room as soon as possible. I would like to go over some figures for Halloween before submitting it to Dumbledore." Potter lifted his gaze from his dinner. He nodded, lifting himself from his seat, turning towards the entrance and leaving. I had to race to meet up with him.

"Hey, wait up." I shouted having followed him for several corridors with no success in keeping up with his long stride.

"What are you playing at anyways Evans?" Potter shouted, spinning around to face me, stoping me dead in my tracks. Um, ok not sure where that came from.

"What are you talking about?" Potter seemed to struggle with himself, it reminded me of last night and I found myself self-consciously tugging at my robes. Potter followed my hand and his frown deepened.

"Nothing!" He threw his hands up in exasperation and continued to stride determinedly down the hall. I caught up with in just as he stormed into our common room. My own temper flared and I marched in right after him.

"If you have a problem with me Potter, either get on with it or get over it. I don't have the time or energy to deal with your selfish and childish manner!"

"Right there, THAT is my problem Evans!" Potter exclaimed, turning towards me.

"What? What are you on about? You have got to be the most insufferable person I have ever met."

"I'm the most insufferable person? That is rich coming from you. Do you enjoy being a continuous pain? Is it because of that stick stuck so far up you ass that you insist on being a complete moron!"

"WHAT THE HELL! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE! HOW DARE YOU SAYS THESE THINGS I HAVE DONE NOTHING TO WARENET SUCH ABUSE POTTER! WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS KIND OF TREATMENT!" I screamed.

"YOU ARE KILLING YOURSELF!" My eyes widened as a red faced Potter ranked his hand violently through his hair and spun towards the fire.

The sound of the crackling fire was all I heard, as both of us became deathly silent as both of us breathed deeply trying to figure out what just happened. Potter and I had not had a fight in some time. Mutual avoidance seemed to be the consensus between us since last fall. What just happened?

"Ex—excuse me?"

"Oh don't pretend you don't understand what I'm saying Evans. Look at you, you are the living example of the walking dead."

As though guided by an invisible hand, my head turned to the mirror that hung over the mantel. My ghostly reflection stared back confused and angry. So what if I look like death just turned over, who is Potter to make such comments anyway! I am starting to detest the sexist comments regarding my physical appearance these days! Is it not enough I am constantly fearing for my future, constantly harassed for my upbringing that I have to deal with guys who are offend to be around me because my face just _may_ look like it has not seen sunlight in years! My temper hit boiling and I swung my gaze towards my chronic source of annoyance. Killing myself? I have no such plans.

"Listen Potter, I don't know where you get off, but I can assure you that I have no intention of _Killing MYSELF_ anytime soon, and if you find my current appearance is offending you, well I have only two words for you. FUCK YOU!" I made to storm past him, as my intention to discuss the Halloween feast completely evaporated, but was stopped short by his, dare I say, impressive frame. "Move Potter, I am in no mood to talk to you. I'm tired and I would like to avoid saying things I may regret, though it seems you have no problem with that." I made to move past him again, but was once again blocked me.

"That is my problem Evans. Not your current appearance, although that is what lead me to notice the abuse you are inflicting upon yourself." Potter said crossing his arms and planting himself between my bedroom door and me. "Up all night, not sleeping, you barely eat, and I was shocked to find you nodding off during History of Magic earlier this week." I flushed at the reminder. I did not think anyone noticed. "You are putting your health at risk, and for what? Is it because you have some insane notion that you will be noticed by the Order and be enlisted to help after school? If that is the case _babe_ you are sadly mistaken. You will die from exhaustion before they get around to interviewing you, though that will never happen as long as I'm around. So stop this late night dueling session and apply yourself to something else, for example, apply to the medical profession, which as I recall, you were going on and on about last year."

"So there is an Order!" I had been hearing rumors of a secret organization forming underground. Its purpose: to fight the rising Dark Lord. Potter's jaw clenched and he looked like he wanted to kick himself. Potter was right. I had wanted to join. I wanted to not only protect myself, but my friends, my family, this magical world. The image of being part of the fight grew stronger everyday, so much so that I was risking my health for the sake of survival. "What do you _mean_ as long as _you're_ around!" Potter tried to school his features, but he was not fast enough. "You believe yourself in control of what the Order does? You think you have any say in who they let in?" I was laughing, but a flicker of his eyes stopped me short. My eyes grew wide. I barely heard it, as the whisper escaped my lips, "You are part of the Order."

Potter ran his hands through his hair and walked over to one of the plush winged backed chairs by the fire. I followed him, taking a seat in the chair opposite him almost timidly, in a state of awe of the person seated across from me.

He focused his attention on the fire, occasionally looking up at me. Sighing he ran his hand through his hair once more and provided me his full attention. "Yes," he finally said, "yes I am part of the Order. I was asked to join over the summer, not fully mind you, I won't be fully part of the Order till I've graduated, but things are changing and these old walls hold a lot of secrets. I'm just here to keep an ear open. I will be entering the Auror Academy after Hogwarts, already got my early acceptance letter in which I will be working for both the Ministry and Dumbledore." My eyes widened at the mention of Dumbledore's name. I knew this, deep down, I knew Dumbledore was behind this. Potter sighed again and turned his attention back to the fire. "You have to swear to keep this between us. No one is supposed to know about the Order, or that I am part of it." He flicked his eyes towards mine and than back to the fire. In those few seconds the weight of his words were carried in his stare. This was a side of Potter I had never seen before. I nodded numbly. "I swear, not a word. If-" Potter looked at me sharply as though sensing what I was about to ask. "If—if you teach me how to fight." Potter's jaw clenched and I sensed he was gearing for a fight. "No," I said holding up my hands indicating that this was not a debate. "Please Potter I need to know how to fight. I will continue to practice on my own whether you help me or not, but I can't do it alone, not properly." I wanted to bit my tongue. If someone were to tell me a year ago that I would be pleading Potter to spend nights with me, I would have laugh in their face. Like Imogene said, Fate was a bitch.

"I have two conditions." Potter said standing up after what felt like hours, when in reality it was more like two minutes. "First," He said holding up one finger as I opened my mouth to protest. So much for it not being a debate. "You must do everything I say, everything. If I am going to teach you, you will treat me with respect, or I'll have to punish you." I opened my mouth at his suggestion, but he gave me no time to refute. "Second, you need to start taking care of yourself, I don't want to have to lock you in your room again just so you can get some sleep." I stood up and came face to face with him. I was conflicted, crazed by wanting to shout at him, for his accusations as well as wanting to demand he start teaching me defensive magic now. I stood and contemplated with myself as Potter, standing in front of me watching, possibly taking in all the emotions that passed through me, waited patiently for me to make up my mind.

"Fine. But I have a few conditions too." Potter stood up a little straighter, faking surprise. He knew I would never surrender without a fight. "You will treat me with respect, if you expect me to do as you say, you will do so in a professional manner. No sexual innuendo, no treating me like I am a helpless little girl. I am asking you to teach me like I know you have been taught." His eyes flickered, but I did not give him a second to respond. "Everyone knows who your father is Potter, and as you pointed out, you received early admission to the Academy. The only way you did that was by participating in the practical. Remember, I too picked up that pamphlet and memorized all the requirements for the position." Potter wetted his lips and looked away in frustration. "So, do we have a deal?"

I stuck out my hand. Potter looked at it seeming to weight his options finally coming to grasp my hand tightly. "Oh you and your Muggle ways, if this were a wizard hand shake Evans it would be sealed with magic."

"I'm well aware of how wizards keep promises Potter, but seeing as we both know it will take time to try and be civil to one another I prefer not to have to watch you die right off the bat. Too much paper work."

"So kind of you to think of my well-being Evans, and here I thought you were protecting yourself from and early grave as you practiced being _kind_ to me." Winking, Potter let go of my hand and crossed his arms enjoying, I would assume, the changing colour of my face.

"_Potter,_" I warned.

"Sorry, old habit." He did not seem sorry.

I stood there awkwardly. I was not sure what was proper protocol at this point, having just made a bet with my arch enemy that involved spending more time with said individual.

"When do we start?"

"When I say so."

"When will that be?" I gritted out.

"I'm started to think that you should address me more formally, don't you agree? Seeing as I am your superior now."

"Yes, how does Major Ego sound to you? Captain Nob?" Potter's ever-present smirk vanished and was replaced by a frown.

"I'm starting to think the vow many have been a wise choice. What happened to be being civil?"

"_Sorry_, old habit." I parroted.

"Fine, during our lessons I would like for you to refer to me as sir. I am after all taking on the role of teacher and if you want Ministry approved training than you also need to keep a lid on that mouth of yours. Lesson number one _babe_, they dislike trainees who talk back."

"Fine. _Sir_ what is lesson number two?" I huffed crossing my arms.

"Patients. No lessons until mid October."

"WHAT!" I shouted. This was unfair!

"I need time to prepare the lessons Evans chill. Also, I need to find a better space than that old classroom you have been destroying." For the second time in two days I refrained from stamping my foot. Potter had a point. If I wanted Ministry approved training I needed someone who will do it right. It irked me to no end knowing my life rested in Potter's hands.

"Now, was there not something you wanted to ask me concerning Halloween?"


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4- The Proof is in the Pudding

_The key to wisdom is knowing all the right questions. _– John A Simone Sr.

I hate is lingering outside Potions waiting for Professor Slughorn, who spends just that extra minute at the lunch table, while we wait dutifully outside his classroom minutes after the bell has rung. This would not be so bad if we did not have to spend the time with the Slytherins. Now unlike most I do not believe in making the sweeping generalization that all who are sorted into Slytherin are bad, but there are the select few for whom I would gladly give my right arm, than be subjected to having to be locked in a cell for a hour with. It was once bearable, around the time that I had an ally among their numbers, one individual who used to smirk and roll his eyes at the antics of his fellow classmates, as though he too thought their snide remarks were childish. Now…now those remarks still seem childish, but one cannot help noticing the evil glint in many of their eyes, as the pending war continues outside. There were rumors that many have been recruited, or are planning, on joining the fight after school. But in the case of people like Mulciber, that won't be for the protection of my kind. Speaking of Mulciber, I could have sworn that I saw him glance quickly at me. I frown. He looked back at me squarely in the eye, smirked and turned back to his mates. I felt myself shiver.

"Hello class! Glad to see you are all here, let's get started shall we." I made my way into the classroom and seated myself at my usual stop next to a fellow Gryffindor, Naomi Price. Naomi and I had always been on good terms, she was a lovely girl, smart, quiet, but had a sharp tongue, which always caught people off gaud. Long dark brown hair that fell straight down to her mid back with blunt bangs and dark eyes and olive skin, Naomi took many people's breath away, but it was her sense of humor and quick wit that made me like her.

"Hello Lily, how are you?" Naomi asked politely smiling at me with her perfect pearly whites.

"I'm well thank you Naomi, and yourself?" I replied smiling back at her. It was hard to not be affected by Naomi's smile. It was contagious.

"Cannot complain, although I'm sure I will be singing a different tune soon enough. Slughorn has that manic look on his face, like a child with their hand in the cookie jar. Never a good sign." Naomi said, looking pointedly at the Professor at the front of the class.

I looked over and had to agree with her. Bouncing slightly as he rocked back and forth on his heals, Professor Slughorn looked too joyous for a seventh year double Potions period right after lunch. The last time he was like this we spent the entire class competing for a small vial of Veritaserum. Truth serum. A band substance at Hogwarts—actually a band substance anywhere—but than most things we do in this class is technically illegal. The vial contained just enough for one drop, which would render anyone who was subjected to it to tell the truth. There was a catch. As Veritaserum can be dangerous in the hands of ragging hormonal teenagers, Slughorn rigged it so that the person subjected to the potion could only reveal one truth. The prize was rather less glorious at that point, but still, no one wanted to lose. The idea that anyone could drop the substance into one's morning pumpkin juice was a chilling thought. I remember Penelope Jensen looking particularly hungered over the prize. Everyone knew she was dying to know if Potter would go out with her, or if he was secretly in love with her, some notion she got in her head one day while they were in line to go to Hogsmead. Apparently he was telling a funny joke and she started to chock on a Bertie Bot Every Flavor Bean. He had rescued her—as she dramatically tells it—by preforming a simple removal charm. Regardless, everyone already knew he wouldn't go out with her. To be frank, I'm positive he has no idea who she is, though apparently she did not. So if one were to think, the truth could not only hurt the person who must be forced to reveal it, but in fact, it could be far more hurtful for the person demanding the truth. Karma?

"Settle down, settle down now. I have a surprise for you all!" There was a collective groan, but Slughorn simply waved them to silence once again. "Now, now this shall be fun! If you all can direct your attention to the front of the class you will notice I have several vials of unmarked potions. Your task today will be to determine what potion is in each vial. You have until the end of class and you will be doing this in partners, don't move just yet! Partners for whom I will assign." Once again the class gave a collective groan, but I was the only one, I felt, who held her breath. It was never good when partners were assigned. "The list is on the board." Slughorn waved his wand and each of our names appeared on the chalkboard accompanied by our assigned partner. " You may begin!"

My suspicions were correct. A quick glance at the board confirmed the worst. I was partnered with Snape. I stood up and began to make my way towards the front of the class were Snape sat. It used to be where I sat too.

During the time it took me to get to my new seat, Snape had already taken it upon himself to collect the vials. Four vials altogether. He began lining them up according to the instructions on the board. Most likely the order indicated the level of difficulty. Not many people would be getting to the final vial. I began to set up my cauldron, lighting a fire and adjusting the temperature so that it would keep the cauldron warm, but not too hot.

"Ready for the first vial?" I nodded as Snape handed it to me. I held it up to the light and we both examined the contents. Clear. I uncorked it. I breathed in deeply despite myself. The most delicious smells assaulted my senses: the smell of wet earth after a summers rain, parchment paper, my mother's hand lotion, and something else, something clean and spicy.

"Amortentia" I said instantly. Snape nodded and wrote in his scratchy handwriting on a piece of parchment. I noticed his pupils were dilated and knew that he was affect by whatever smells attracted him. A part of me wanted to know what smells caused him longing. Snape took the next vial and like before held it up to the light. It was cloudy, a grey-lavender colour swirling about. This one was going to be harder.

"I'll start on this one if you want to take the next one?" I nodded and took the third vial. We worked in silence for a while, both concentrating on our own vials, occasionally exchanging a few words to confirm our findings. I pulled and adjusted my messy bun. As I worked I ran my hands through my hair pulling pieced from what was at one point today, a nicely made bun. I had a feeling I looked like Young Frankenstein. I was tired as I made some marginal notes in my textbook, something Sniv—Snape and I had started doing in our third year realizing that the standard potions they printed were just that—standard. Learning to adjust the potion to reveal better results was easier than either of us expected. I remember many late nights where just the two of us would practice making adjustments to all the potions in our book, and even attempt potions from an advanced year, if we could get our hands on one. I shook the memory of our joking and laughing faces as many of our _adjustments_ went a little south. This is not time Lily! I scolded myself. I needed to concentrate only on three more turns and this antidote should be perfect. Or is it four? On my third stir I did not stop to examine what colour the potion had turned, but added an extra stir on whim, and was relieved to see the pale pink solution.

"Very good Lily! Not many students produce such a perfect solution!" I tried my best to beam back at the joyous professor, but all I could master was a twitch in the corn of my mouth. I bottled the solution and indicated under Snape's earlier record what potion it was. The solution seemed to glow warm in my hand. A tricky potion called Winter Bite, which renders the individual in a hypothermic state. The only way to properly identify the solution was to make its counter solution. The Rouse Breath.

"One left." Snape said picking up the final vial. I may have imagined it but I thought I detected a flicker of fear in his eye. Once again he held the vial to the light. It was opaque, dark, almost black. "We have a problem." I looked at him sharply. His tone scared me. He opened the vial and took a sniff of the substance. As though repulsed by the smell he withdrew the vial quickly. He looked pale and seemed to struggle with himself.

"Sniv-"

"It has to be drunk, half of it, for it is the only way to determine this potion. It could be one of two but unless I know the exact symptom it is a fifty-fifty chance. The antidote will need to be made quickly." He made to drink it but I was quicker. I snatched the vial from his shaking hand and downed half of it. His eyes were wide with shock, which slowly faded to anger.

"Why did you do that!" He hissed at me.

"You know what it could be and you are the best in this class. I will give you my symptoms and you will be able to determine the poison and make the antidote. I don't even have a clue let alone two options like you have. If you were incapacitated it would take me much longer to figure out the antidote even if I knew the name of the poison." I growled handing him back the vial. We glared at each other but it did not last long as I slid from my seat and fell towards the floor. Snape launched himself out of his seat and caught me before I hit the floor.

"Lily? Lily, speak to me what are you feeling?" He lowered me to the ground slowly placing my head carefully on the floor. "Lily? Lily you need to tell me what you feel. There is a specific difference between these poisons and I need to know exactly your symptoms!" He was shaking, not a good sign. He needs to be level headed about this.

"My limps feel like jelly, as though my muscles have disappeared. My mouth is dry. I'm—I'm starting to feel tingles—my tongue, is—" I could not talk anymore, the only sound I could omit were choking noises as my tongue went numb. He looked me directly in the eye and I saw pain, fear, longing in his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it, shaking his head he jumped up and began chopping items and throwing them into the cauldron. I was left valuable and incapacitated on the floor. Hurry Snape.

I had been calling him Snape for the past year and a half now. It was easier this way. Even though I missed him dearly he was a stranger to me now. His obsession with the Dark Arts and his new friends showed me that he has done away with the guy I once knew, the guy who would talk of a better world, free from prejudice. _Silly Lily,_ _he was simply referring to the removal of all muggles who apparently were the cause of all wizard and witch's misfortunes. Live harmoniously, right, under the rule of a crazed lunatic._ I put aside my mental rambling and focused on something else just incase I resorted to punching him in the gut when I got my motor functions back. Lists of poisons started to fly past my minds eye as I tried to cross reference what poison would render me in this state. The only poison that came to mind was the venom of a Fringed Ornamental Tarantula, which may render a victim comatose if not treated quickly. But he mentioned that there were two very similar poisons? What mimicked the Fringed spider's venom?

I was shaken from my musings by the reappearance of Snape with a vial of clear yellowy substance. He nudged my lips to allow the antidote to enter my mouth. Although I had no control of opening or closing my mouth, I was never the less thinking of keeping my mouth firmly shut if I could. _How can I trust you?_ Snape held my head up as he poured the antidote into my mouth. He looked into my eye as though trying to reassure me, but he closed his mouth and looked away. It was possible he read the mistrust in my eyes.

As the antidote slid past my lips and down my throat I began to feel sensation come back to my extremities and a sense of control of my body once again. I made to sit up, but Snape held me down. "Just give it a second. You don't want to get up too fast. I pushed his hand away as I sat up. The world spun for just a moment, but otherwise I was fine.

"Excellent! Congratulations you two! Excellent, excellent! See everyone Mr. Snape figured out the correct antidote to the final potion! Most excellent full marks too you both!" Slughorn beamed at us bouncing again on his heals admiring his two favorite students.

"Mr. Snape would you be so kind as to distribute some of your antidote to Miss. Price so that we may revive Mr. Potter? Most excellent!" Snape returned to his cauldron and ladled some of his antidote into a vile. I looked about the class. As it were, only Snape, Naomi, Potter, and myself were able to get to the final potion. By the pained look on Naomi's face she too was thinking of the spiders venom, but it was definitely not the venom of the spider, just a poison that looked and mimicked it. I got to my feet just as Snape was turning around. He looked at the paralyzed form of Potter and seemed to struggle with himself. That hesitation was all I needed. I took hold of the vial. He held tightly and looked at me. I held my stance and gave a tug at the vial. He relented, letting go and turning to clean up our workspace.

I was still a little weak and a bit queasy, but I nevertheless made my way over to Naomi and Potter. Naomi was kneeled next to Potter checking his vitals to make sure he was not slipping into a coma. I kneeled down on the other side and handed Naomi the vial. I was definitely not strong enough yet to lift his head to administer the antidote. I watched as Potter slowly began to gain function of his body. He coughed and looked at Naomi.

"Can I get some w—water?" he asked coughing into his sleeve. Naomi nodded and went to find a glass.

"That was really stupid of you Evans." I raised my eyebrow at him.

"I'm sorry I missed that. Come again?" I gritted out.

"Taking the poison. Not a smart move putting your trust in a future Death Eater." With the commotion of students packing up and talking loudly over one another, our quite argument went unnoticed.

"Whatever you opinion of him may be, take a moment to consider he just saved your life too. He knew what the poison was. Do you think he would have allowed harm to come to me in a classroom Potter?" Our argument was cut short as Naomi returned with a glass of water. Potter drank deeply. He thanked her and slowly got to his feet. He swayed for a second. Grabbing his rucksack he walked out of the classroom.

"So what was the poison?" Naomi asked completely unfazed by Potter departure.

"Black Widow poison." I said still staring towards the door.

"I never heard of it before." Said Naomi, getting up from the floor. I followed suit.

"It is very uncommon, but not unheard of. I only came across a reference to it once before. I just remembered now what the symptom was that distinguishes the two.

"What is it?" Naomi inquired.

"Sweat." I turned as Snape came up beside me. "Sweat on the brow. The venom from the spider renders the victim completely at ease. Black Widow causes the victim fear. Ergo, sweat." He never took his eyes off of me as though willing to communicate with his eyes. I for one was ignoring him. Turning my gaze once again towards the classroom door.

"Um, thanks." Naomi said unsure to the situation playing out in front of her. "Lily I'll see you around." I nodded as Naomi left the classroom.

"Lily, I—" I pushed past him. I did not want to speak with him. I returned to the desk and began packing away my stuff. I stiffened at the sound of something snapping behind me.

"Here," I piece of chocolate appeared under my noise. "It will help, you look a little tired." I took the piece offered and turned to the person beside me.

"Remus!" I smiled. Remus and I had always gotten along well. We became friends during rounds in our fifth year, talking about books and schoolwork. He was very easy to talk to and a kind person all around. Unlike his best friends.

"Eat. It will help." I took a bite of the chocolate and felt instant warm spread through me, warming away the chill that seemed to have penetrated my bones.

"Thank you, Remus." I said. We began walking out of the classroom and to our next class which we had together.

"How did he know?" Remus questioned after a moment of silence. It took me a second to figure out what he was referring to.

"Well he noticed the sweat I guess."

"No, he started making antidote before you started perspiring. I was watching."

"He may have noticed it later. The beginning stages of the antidote is the same for both poisons. He could have easily looked down and noticed my brow was shiny." I don't know why I was being so defensive, or why Remus was acting as though Snape had guessed at the antidote.

"He never once looked down at you." For some reason that little piece of information kind of hurt me.

"You could not have been watching us the whole time Remus, you were in the middle of making an antidote. Unless you were trying to cheat." I tried to joke, but it did worry me. Snape would not have just guessed at an antidote, would he? My life was in no immediate danger what with Slughorn present, but it did not help shake the feeling that he may have tried to give me something that was…well poisonous.

"Not making any accusations Lily, we both know he is great at potions, just wondering if he noticed any other symptoms. I've seen him rewrite some potions, even try and create a few, we both remember how that last one played out. I'm just wondering if he noticed something else. We learn new things about these potions each time we make them."

I couldn't help but feel that Remus was covering. He was always good with words, always good with slight of hand if you would. He was skilled in misdirection.

"He never said anything. I did not speak with him." We became quiet once again as we arrived at our next class.

"Lily," Something in his voice stopped me. I turned to him. He was looking at me straight in the eye. "Trust. In these dark times it is both a tool for survival and a weapon. Need to figure out now who you trust in."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5- An Itch You Just Can't Scratch

I have been thinking long and hard about what Remus had said to me, about needing to start questioning everyone these days. I had put my life in Snape's hands earlier without a second thought. Well I did question my decision _after_, but still, something told me that if I were in danger Snape would do everything in his power to help me. Maybe I should stop referring to him as Snape, after all he did save my life and he was once my best friend. _Oh Sev, I do miss you, but you are no longer the boy I once knew_. So the question remains, do I trust you? Yes. Even with the feeling that he may have perhaps guessed at the correct antidote, I nevertheless trusted that he would work hard to correct his mistake. I trust that when my life was in his hands he would protect me. Just…there is a slight part that wonders if my life my not have been in danger had he not made some decisions.

Of course now I have gone and put my life into someone else's hands. How do I feel about our little arrangement? Do I trust Potter? Yes. For some reason I do. The boy maybe an insufferable git, a pig headed arse, and a womanizer, but I have seen him on more than one occasion do the right thing. He is said to be fiercely loyal and courageous, according to the rumor mill, but is that really a test of someone's character? What random people think? Maybe I need to know what makes him so loyal and courageous, from reliable sources. If he was recruited already by the Order, he must be very serious about this war. _Why _don't I know more about him? Better question is _why_ do I trust him without really knowing him? Severus had been my best friend I had known him for years, yet that summer at the end of fifth year showed me I did not _really_ know who he had become. So why do I feel like I can trust a complete stranger! One who has done nothing but harass me and make fun of me? I put my head in my hands. I was giving myself a headache. This feeling was like an itch I just could not scratch.

I suddenly heard laughter echoing around me. Potter must be down in the common room with his mates. Could they possibly be more rambunctious? Sometimes I feel like this place is a frat house. Unable to take the added noise do to my already splitting headache, I decided I needed to ask them to politely turn-it-the-fuck-down! As I made my way down the stairs to the common room, intent on giving the foursome a piece of my mind, I was stopped short by the sound of my own name. I tipped-toed down a bit further keeping to the shadows so that the boys would not know I was eavesdropping. Not one of my finer moments.

"—Seriously though Prongs, how is it that you got the lovely little carrot top to agree to allow you to teach her defensive magic? Like a dream come true eh, just the two of you all alone after hours, locked away in some dusty classroom…" I could hear Sirius dramatically mimic the sounds of kissing before being silenced by someone, I suppose Remus, throwing what sounded like a couch cushion.

"That was uncalled for Moony!" Chucking could be heard among the remaining boys.

"But seriously Prongs, how did Lily ever agree to this plan in the first place?" Remus was always a noisy bugger, I growled to myself.

"Don't get your tail all in a bunch there Moony, it was not like I spilled anything. To be honest she guessed at half of it. She wants to know how to fight. She is a stubborn little piece of work." I could almost sense Potter run his hand through his hair.

"She would not be Evans if she were like every other bird in this joint. She sure has blossomed into a pretty little thing though, not really my type, I like a little more ass, but I'm starting to guess what is hidden under that white top. She's no Lydia Davis mind, but Evan's is filling out her shirts very nicely."

"Thanks Padfoot. But damn she does seem to possess something under all that clothing." I flushed at Potters words never having heard him compliment me on my looks before, however crass the comment may sound. I looked down at my current state. I was still in my school uniform, the wooly dark tights hidden under an equally dark and heavy skit that went to my knees. The only real change was the oversize jumper I had on top over my shirt. Imogene called it my grumpy grandfather jumper, or was she saying frumpy? Either way it was not exactly nice, it was frayed along the edges and had a few olds from when Imogene's cat had attacked it back in fifth year. I liked it though. It was comfortable and kept the chill off.

"So besides her wanting to fight why did you volunteer to help her? And how are you going to do it?"

"I just don't know Padfoot. I need to figure out a lesson plan or I'm sure Evan's would have my balls for breakfast, and not in a good way." Chuckled Potter.

"What if you taught her simple things? Basics? Things that were not really defensive magic?" Angered by the mere suggestion of not teaching me proper magic, I had half a mind to march down there and box Petegrew's ears! Deceitful little bugger!

"No Wormtail. Evan's will join the fight no matter what I have to say, and the idea of not teaching to the best of my ability would be both a miss deed to her and a discredit on my name!" Although overly dramatic I was nevertheless heartened by the notion that Potter would never slack where is counted. "No, I am bound to teach her, though frankly I'm not sure what I can really do. The tests we went through were physically demanding—not that Evans could not handle it for sure, just—"

"You don't want to be the one to put her through that. One does not come out of that exactly _liking_ the one who put them through it. I know you and your dad have been—"

"Whatever Mooney, it doesn't matter. Evans and I already have and established "hate" relationship. Shit like that won't change one damn thing. If anything she might just decided that offing me would just make everything better. She would not know how right she is…"

"Prongs—"

"NO! I don't want to talk about this anymore. Can we just… can we just go and get smashed?" The only sound I heard after was the closing of the portrait door. I waited in the shadows a little longer before entering the common room.

It was deserted. I walked over to the fireplace. I tried to digest what I had just overheard, but all I did was add to my headache. I needed fresh air. I walked over to the bay windows and threw them open. The cool evening air felt refreshing upon my face, but it was not enough. Inhaling deeply, I pulled out my wand and silently summoned my broom from upstairs.

I mounted my broom and mentally prepared myself from what I was about to do. Jump from great heights out a window with nothing between the ground and me but a piece of wood. I was a pretty good flier, though I never really mastered the whole 'don't look down part', never been one for heights. Breathing deeply I pushed off from the windowsill and experienced a euphoric sense of liberty! I left behind all my worries, dramas, and insecurities and embraced the feeling of freedom only felt while flying.

I laughed as I soared higher into the clear night sky my arms stretched out as though I really were a bird climbing to new heights! Taking a hold of my broom once again I plummeted towards the ground spinning along the way and just as the ground looked as though I was about to be it's new best friend, I sharply pulled up feeling the soft grass lightly graze my shoes! This was amazing! _No wonder Potter does that every game, it is such a rush_! He makes it look so difficult and yet here I am doing that very same stunt! I turned towards the Forbidden Forest and weaved through the trees. I shot straight up narrowly avoiding a tree, scrapping my arm along the way. I cursed as I shot out atop the trees. It was not to bad, bleeding, but the jumper now had a large tear along the sleeve. I will have to fix it back in the dorm. Regardless of my injury, I was not ready to call it a night. Hovering above the trees I thought of another favorite flying trick of Potter's. Loop-de-loops!

I giggled and laughed to myself feeling so happy for the first time in a long time. I attempted another loop-de-loop laughing at my daring stunts and just as I was about to attempt another loop-de-loop, something big and black shot out of the trees in front of me! I screamed as I swerved to the left, but I was struck by the wings of the beast and thrown off my broom.

I plummeted towards to the trees screaming into the night, though really what is the point in screaming? I am about to die! Should I not be having one of those flashes right about now? Hitting that first branch was the worst pain I had ever experienced. I could not comprehend if the sound of snapping was the branches as I continued to fall or my bones, shattering into a million pieces. I tried to grasp onto anything but I could not.

Suddenly something grabbed and yanked me up—onto a broom! I was no longer falling but flying out of the forest! I must have died, this is Death taking me away isn't it? I tried to see who had a hold of me but something warm and wet was running into my eyes. I tried to wipe the blood from my face, but as I tried to move my hand someone growled at me to _STOP MOVING!_

I knew that voice all to well. _POTTER! Potter saved my life? Is Potter actually Death? I knew someone so handsome and evil couldn't possibly be mortal._

We came to a stop in a clearing far away from the forest. As his feet touched down I jumped from his arms and backed away from him as fast as I could. Or I would have had I not ended up face planting the ground. The long grass stifled my cry as pain from my right leg shot through me making me see double. I clenched my teeth and tried to calm my breathing. I will not show weakness in front of Potter, you know besides the whole falling off my broom and face planting the ground kind of weakness.

"Bloody Hell what is the matter with you!" Strong, but gentle, hands helped to turn me so that I was no longer eating grass. "What the hell Evans! Is it some kind of defect you suffer from that when I tell you not to go and kill yourself, YOU GO AND KILL YOURSELF!" Hearing the exasperation in his voice really annoyed me. No one asked him to save my bloody neck. Wanker.

"Common Evans, I need to get you to the Hospital Wing you look like you may have lost a lot of blood, not to mention your leg is sticking in an odd direction. What were you thinking egging on a Thestral like that!"

"I was thinking—I was thinking how hard it must be for you bro—oom to support you enormous ego! All those sss—tunts you do during Quidditch, kids games Potter. And—and for your information I was not _egging_ on anything! The damn-ned thing came at me cause it smelled my blood." I was attempting to ward off his hands as he helped me to sit up, I was feeling light headed and I'm sure my speech was a little slurred. "I don't need your help!" I growled. I tried to sit up, but failed as the pain in my leg and left arm prevented me from doing so, not to mention all the other scraps I obtained from the fall.

"Oh really? Well I guess I will just leave you shall I? Sleep tight Evans, don't let the werewolves bite." Potter got up, poised over me waiting for me to beg him to help me as I lay there bleeding to death. What a sadistic arse. He was mad, I could see that clearly from the clenched jaw and piercing eyes, but he also looked worried, and perhaps scared? After a minute, he walked over to his discarded broom and picked it up and started to make his way towards the castle. The fucker. I sighed and inwardly slapped myself. I did need his help. I was sure I had two broken bones and if my fuzzy perception was something to go by, I'm sure I was losing blood at a rapid pace and may just perhaps be suffering from a concussion. Fuck me.

"Po—Po—James" The last thing I remember was strong arms picking me up and thinking how much Potter smelled of cinnamon, and Firewisky.


End file.
